Nihil Rex: [entries|friends|calendar] Melkor // Morgoth Bauglir [ userinfo | greatestjournal userinfo ] [ calendar | greatestjournal calendar ]

[17 Feb 2005|11:57am] [ mood | contemplative ] [ music | Gackt - Vanilla ] In the shadows cast by the wandering moon he sat, musing. (He had a thing for sitting and stewing over ideas, situations, and people.) Dark thoughts writhed within his mind -- How to turn this situation best to his advantage? Go to Hírilorn with the others, maintain this disguise, and lay the plans for a greater conquest. If he were discovered, the consequences would be grave indeed. If he were found out... The wind whispered restlessly, causing the shadows to dance on the pale earth as the trees swayed gently. He pulled his legs to his chest, and rested his chin on his knees. The healing wound on his palm stung in protest as he stretched and flexed his hand, watching the changing patterns of moonlight. This was a good disguise. He could feel the recognition brush the consciousness of the Children of Eru at times, but they never fully realized who exactly he was. Some had suspicions, no doubt, but none serious enough to be brought to public attention. A sigh blended into the breeze as he shifted, pulling his cloak more tightly around himself. Pale eyes fluttered shut, and he was still. If only he had an army strong enough to conquer this world, there would be no need for such deception. If only Eru had seen that he was the one that should be leader, and not his brother, there would be no conflict in the first place. If only... He fell into a hazy state somewhere between waking and sleep, and dreamt of if onlys and could have beens. It's so cold here.

[20 Dec 2004|12:08am] [ mood | awake ] [ music | Tool - The Grudge ] [OOC: This happens closer to the period in time where all sorts of destruction is goin' down'. Uhm, it's just been hanging out on my hard drive for a while now, is all. And if it's alright with Moz, I'd like to place what's going on with Aredhel and Melkor after he's doing all this. :D ] He had to find Sauron. The earth was trembling, the winds were howling, the mountains were crumbling -- the very stars in the sky falling! The events had subsided considerably, but he was still shaken. Where was his lieutenant, his faithful one? Melkor needed reassurance that the Valar were not after him (again) and, if they were, counsil on what action to take. He had taken the utmost care to disguise any traces of his return and subsequent activities. They couldn't have found him -- It was impossible! His mind reeled at the prospect of being chained and imprisoned again. 'Malbeth' strode purposefully down the corridors of Menegroth, a dark look upon his features. He tried to push thoughts of a war he was entirely unprepared for out of his mind, but to no avail. Coming upon a doorway to the outside, he paused. Perhaps it would do some good to get some fresh air. And so, he turned to walk outside... It's so cold here.

[22 Oct 2004|12:29am] [ mood | thoughtful ] [ music | Bad Religion - Bored and Extremely Dangerous ] It had been some time since he had come into contact with any of Eru's children. The last he had seen was Lúthien the Shiny Mom. Or so he had taken to calling her... Secretly, though. Very secretly. In his head. and that encounter had ended in him doing something that rarely happened -- Melkor was thinking about his feelings. And so he sat, back against a tree, hugging his legs. What was he thinking, opening that can of worms? And with Lúthien, of all beings. His stomach flipped; he closed his eyes. He still wanted her. His desire to possess that light had not lessened, only changed. She was like a Silmaril, in a way... If he was to touch her, it would surely pain him. But he could still have her. He would still have her. Eru was a bastard, he was convinced of it. Why would Illuvatar endow him with such great gifts, such awesome power, such a drive to rule, if he didn't intend for Melkor to do so? It wasn't fair. It wasn't even logical. Just because Melkor had decided to be the original one, he got shafted time and time again. If this was part of the All-Father's plan, he was a sick puppy indeed. And for that matter, where in the hell was his All-Mother? All other creatures had two parents: elves, humans, animals, and even plants! But not Valar. Not Maiar, either. Maybe Eru was... Asexual? He shifted his weight, and put his head on his knees. The sun was setting. And that was the end of that particular offshoot of questioning... Melkor sniffed, and readjusted his position to lay on his side. He used an arm as a pillow, and sighed. It wasn't good to dwell on such things, especially when he had havoc to wreak and pain to inflict. So now, he'd clear his mind... And tomorrow, he would seek out a new way to incite conflict. It's so cold here.

[03 Oct 2004|12:23pm] [ mood | calm ] [ music | MIT Concert Choir; Gabriel Fauré - (Requiem) Agnus Dei ] He felt it; his most loyal, most trusted serv--No, lieutenant--had come to Doriath. Gorthaur was more than just a petty servant. Orcs, trolls, and even Balrogs were servants. That Maiar of his was not. 'Malbeth' perked up from his resting state at the base of a tree, and peered at his surroundings. Off to Menegroth, Sauron? Melkor thought in the direction of his lieutenant. He smirked, and pushed himself off the ground. Where had Fingon gone off to? Ah, well, he wasn't too concerned at the moment... If he at least knew the former elf King, he shouldn't be suspect to much interrogation. Melkor brushed himself off, and walked in the direction that he felt Sauron's presence. [Bueller? Bueller? Feel free, anyone. :D ] It's so cold here. * 12 froze.

Dear Diary... [05 Sep 2004|03:34am] [ mood | thoughtful ] Everything is new again, but scarred and pock-marked with the memories of old -- Old plans, old ambitions, old powers... Renewed, once again. If we all dust and polish our battered pasts to sparkling cleanliness, it seems like none of that ever happened, save for the scratches and dents that cannot be buffed away. The same actors pick up the same facades to perform in this ceaseless plot circle, this changeless script. I know my destiny before I reach it, for that is the way that it has been these past times. Yet, something drives me onward to try again -- Hope, some would call it, but that is not its true name -- because I know, one day, there will be a change in the script, a plot twist, if you will. Then, I will not fall alone into destruction. The Dagor Dagorath will come. Then... Only He knows. And I'll be damned a million times over if the same plot is acted out again. It's so cold here.

[31 Aug 2004|06:56am] [ mood | anxious ] His new fortress was coming along quite nicely. Although he could not see it, he could feel it. Melkor had left the task of completing his little hidey-hole to various orcs, and gone off to walk among Eru's Firstborn. Of course he had donned a clever disguise before setting out. Malbeth the golden tongued he became, and while traveling, he had come across the former King, Fingon. Now, he was sifting through the ashes of a realm razed in part by his forces -- The other half of the blame lay with the rest of the Valar, however noble their intentions may have been. He was not the only one to have wrought destruction across the lands in the War of Wrath. It would do him good to stand by this elf -- In his shadow perhaps. He had to count their numbers, take note of their preparations, and a number of other things before returning to his preparations. It's so cold here.

Whistle while you work... [26 Aug 2004|07:29am] [ mood | creative ] [ music | Zeromancer - Dr. Online ] Rocks flew in the flickering torchlight as Melkor hacked away at the back of the tunnel, angling it slowly downward. Several orcs crated out the debbris that was created as their master cut further into the gut of the mountain. He wasn't above some form of grunt work, seeing as how he was fairly certain that if he had put more personal effort into his last two fortresses, they would not have been so thoroughly destroyed. In addition to that line of thought, if he dug the main tunnel leading below, it would get done much faster. However, he dared not display an incredible amount of power by using magic to shape the passageway, for fear that someone would detect it one way or another. Secrecy was key to his strategy. In any event, moving at this pace, he would have it done by sometime in the middle of the night. The other orcs that had answered his call were busy digging more tunnels, shaping others to look like halls, and creating several chambers of varying sizes. This was just the beginning, though. More of his foul creations would gather and increase the working numbers. This particular project would be finished in no time flat... And hopefully, it would remain undetected by any unfriendly eyes. However, the probability of that happening was growing more and more unlikely, as the makeshift forge he had built to create tools for the digging process was sending smoke upward, creating a hazy beacon in the sky. Melkor grunted irritably and struck even harder blows at the rock before him. Attention was the last thing he needed right now. He would have to devise a way to diffuse the smoke for the time being... Once enough orcs had gathered, he would leave them working on the as of yet nameless fortress to spy on the Children of Eru. Melkor mistrusted the bumbling orcs in this matter, and thought that a more deceptive approach was needed. He would disguise himself and walk among them to gain their trust and new insights into their defenses, numbers, and behavior. Perhaps he could even extort the desires of the more ambitious and instill unrest within their ranks -- Or better yet, have them join his own ranks, lead on by promises of grandeur and power. He smiled a wicked smile, and put his planning aside for the moment. It would be better to focus on the task at hand, so that it was finished more quickly, than to dream about future events. It's so cold here.

[23 Aug 2004|01:52pm] [ mood | busy ] Melkor had traveled far enough South to begin seeing the scars left on the land from the War of Wrath. Chaos had reigned in those days -- Unfortunately, it wasn't the type of chaos he liked, and it had lead to his banishment in the Void. Those were bad times... He looked around at the barren, rocky landscape at the foot of a mountain that appeared to have had its side gouged fiercely. This will do, he thought, and began planning the maze to be in his mind. It would run both high, to the peak of the mountain, and low, to the dark depths of the earth. He would have to build walls to protect his fortress, but that would come when he had a more substantial labor force. Right now it was just... Well, himself. Melkor broadcast a summons to any evil creation that might still be lurking -- The Dark Lord was back and ready to rebuild. It's so cold here.

Returning. [20 Aug 2004|03:26pm] [ mood | determined ] He gasped as sensation once again assailed his body. It was shocking to feel again enough after going so long having felt absolutely nothing, but the harshness of the feeling was unexpected, and seemed like an attack. It was cold here, and everything was white. I must be far North, he thought, squinting against the wind that drove snow into his face. Melkor felt disoriented. The sudden onslaught of such inhospitable conditions didn't do much to help. His mind was working over time. Why was it that he was able to reenter Arda this time, after so many of his other attempts had failed? Where would he go, now? Was his most loyal lieutenant still around? Melkor had no doubt in his black heart that Sauron's loyalty still remained with him, so there was no question of whether or not he would betray his master. Had any of the other Valar felt him return? He had moved with great stealth, taking exceptional care not to make a grand return. There would be time for that later, once his forces had been rebuilt. But he had no fortress, no dark labyrinth in which to house his horde -- Or himself, for that matter. That would be his first task, then. With that thought in mind, he began trudging along a South-Easterly course. It would suit him to have a fortress in such a severe climate, but perhaps not this severe. His minions might not survive it for too long, and he wanted as many of them as possible. Farther South would do, but not too far. Cold would be a powerful ally against the Children of Iluvatar. It's so cold here.

navigation [ viewing | most recent entries ]